


It's Only Forever

by Wolfmoonmagic



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Danger, Eventual Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-25 10:53:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14975657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfmoonmagic/pseuds/Wolfmoonmagic
Summary: A Game of Thrones and Labyrinth cross over nobody asked for.This story begins after the events of The Red Wedding.Arya is aged up to 16.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am not a very good writer, so I do apologize if my writing seems unpolished or juvenile at times. I just have an idea I want to try and play out. I hope someones able to enjoy it for what it is, though.

"It's too late"  
The words stabbed through her very being like shards of broken glass.  
Suddenly there was pain, a bright flash of light, and everything went quiet.  
She could hear screams and smell warm blood and earth, but she was trapped between reality and dream.

The darkness felt like an eternity. Arya could feel her body sinking under inky black waves. While she couldn’t gasp for air, she never passed out. Up was down, down was up, and nothing made sense as the waves pulled her further in. She tried to scream so many times, but no noise would escape her.

Her eyes shot open, but her head was still sore. She gently rolled on her side and could feel she was in a bed. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the room, and beside the bed was a large figure in a chair snoring. 

"S-Sandor?" She managed to choke through dry lips.

There was enough moon light creeping in through the window that she could see his eyes slowly open. He smiled, reached out and tussled her mess of hair. He then held a pitcher of water up to her lips which she eagerly accepted.

"I'm sorry wolf girl, but I couldn't risk you charging in and bringing certain death upon our heads."

"So... It was real?"

"Aye, I'm afraid so." He said sullenly.

Arya rolled over and faced the wall, pulling her blanket up closer, as tears welled up in her eyes. They had come so close, but not soon enough. Thoughts raced through her head, wondering if she could have saved them had they'd met up sooner. She knew the answer deep down inside. 

"Thank you. For saving me. I know you just want your coin..."

"Hush, girl. There may be a bounty on ye head, but I'll not take you anywhere harm will come you."

"Why do you care what happens to me?"

"Maybe I've grown fond of ya. Maybe I know deep down, you have the spirit of a fighter. Maybe because you remind me of me."

"Oh please, don't say something so horrid."

The Hound erupted with laughter.

“I’m glad to see you’re still yourself.”

They both jumped as they heard a noise against the shutters of the window. Sandor walked over and opened them, just in time to see a white owl fly away against the light of the moon.  
He closed the shutters.

"I've left some bread on the table for you, but I'll give you your privacy and head down to the tavern now."

"Please stay."

"I'm not a bloody maester. You look well enough for now.”

"Please...”

Sandor rolled his eyes and kicked off his boots. The room they were in was quite small. It contained a bed with a small table beside it, a chair, and a small wash basin and pitcher. He made his way back to the chair and tried to get comfortable in it.

“You can join me in the bed, you know.”

“Well that wouldn’t be proper, a lady sharing a bed with an old dog like me.”

“I’m no lady. Please… I just don’t want to be alone right now. I don’t think it’s all quite sunk in yet, and I just don’t want to be alone when it does.”

Sandor hadn’t seen such a sensitive side of the girl before, but he could hardly blame her after the events they’d nearly fallen victim to themselves. He felt horrible for inflicting pain on her, but he truly couldn’t have risked the alternative. He was shocked she was holding herself together the way she was, but he’d always known deep down she was a strong one. He’d hate to admit it, but he had grown rather fond of her. 

The bed was small, and as he laid down in it, his weight caused her to come rolling into him. Arya stretched her arm over him the best she could, and buried her face into him arm. He could feel dampness pooling against his skin and knew she was trying to hide her tears. He rolled around and put his arms around her, bringing her in close.

“Hush wolf girl. There will be none of that now.”

Arya didn’t know why he was being so tender, but she didn’t care. All she knew was right then and there, being in his arms had felt completely right. 

Hours had passed, but Sandor couldn’t bring himself to sleep. He amused himself with the thought of a young woman opening her bed to him without the promise of coin. Of all the circumstances that could have led to this moment, it of course had to be one marred by such tragedy. He looked down at the small girl curled up against him. In all their time together, he’d never really taken a close look at her. Her features were soft as she slept. Her skin was the color of alabaster, and her lips a light pink. Despite trying to carry herself as a boy, her features were obviously feminine. And the way her body gently curved…

He forced himself to close his eyes before his thoughts travelled somewhere impure. There was generally only one reason he would share space in a bed with a woman, but this wasn’t one of those times. He reminded himself that the only reason she opened her bed to him was because more members of her family had been brutally slain and she was just looking for some comfort. 

Sandor could hear the screech of an owl out against the night. Sleep soon followed.


	2. Chapter 2

Three days had passed since they shared a bed together at the inn. Neither of them had said much after waking up together. They’d just quietly packed up their things and got back to the road. Everywhere they stopped and every person they passed made mention of the wedding massacre. Arya tried not to wince, but failed every single time. The wounds were still very fresh. 

Arya was also feeling resentful. After a night of awkward bonding and heading out on the road together, she was given the news that he still planned to ransom her off, but now to her aunt Lysa in the Vale of Arryn. A part of her had been hopeful he’d keep her as a travelling companion. She felt she didn’t have anywhere to belong, and was beginning to enjoy his company and time on the road together. 

Inside himself, Sandor was wrought with guilt that was turning his guts. Despite saving the girl at the Twins, he wished he could have done more, but he wasn’t sure what. Save her family? Preventing her from seeing as much as she did? And now he felt bad about taking her to her aunts for a ransom. He was shocked that this pained him so, but inside he knew It would be safer for her. The roads were no place for a young woman, especially not a Stark with a bounty on her head. “ _She will be safe with family_ ” he told himself over and over again in his head. 

“So what are your intentions after you get your ransom money? Head to the nearest tavern and brothel?” Arya had broken the silence. 

“You have every right to be a cunt right now, but no. Probably head to the free cities.”

“Braavos…” Arya said quietly under her breath.

“What’s that now?”

“Braavos. I want to go to Braavos. Please don’t take me the Vale. I want to come with you. I won’t slow you down. I won’t cause you any grief. I…just want to stay with you. I want to learn the things you know. I want to know how to fight like you, live like you.”  
Growing fond of her company, he half considered her request.  
“You know I can’t do that. We’ve got to get you back to your family safely. These are dangerous time.”  
“Yeah and I’d be safest with YOU.”

The rest of their ride continued in silence.

***

Evening was near and they had to find a spot to lay their heads for the night. In the distance they spotted a small farm house, which Sandor thought was worth investigating. There was a pen for animals, which had long looked abandoned. There were no sounds or light coming from within the abode. Sandor lightly knocked, but there was no answer. He gently pushed open the door and called out, but nobody replied. The farmhouse had been abandoned.

Whoever had lived here had left without taking many of their belongings. The house looked like it still could have been occupied, except for a layer of dust on everything. Sandor started small fire in the hearth while Arya looked around. The house had two beds, one larger than the other. She gathered a man and younger woman had lived here, possibly a father and his daughter.   
Arya pulled a piece of salted meat and bread out of her pack, rations they had traded for along the ride. Sandor did the same as he sat down beside her. As he was sitting, he noticed a very familiar shape tucked away in a corner beside the bed. He reached for it with a gleam in his eye.

“Aye girl, the Gods are looking down on us today. A full bottle of rum!”

Sandor ripped off the cap and took a large swig before passing it over to Arya. She cautiously sniffed it and tried to take a large sip, but the taste had her reeling back and spilling on herself. 

“Well if youre going to waste it, I don’t see a point in sharing.”

“How can you actually ENJOY that stuff?”

“It ain’t so much about the taste. You’ll understand one day.”

“I want to understand now” she said as she ripped the bottle out of his hands, and throwing back a large mouthful. Her actions elicited a small chuckle out of the large man. 

“Not so much, wolf girl. You have to take it easy, because I don’t want to be dealing with the smell of your sick all over the house!”

For the first time in a few days, the mood had felt light. Stories and smiles were shared back and forth, as a level of fondness and understanding grew between the two.

Arya envied what she saw the Hound as. Large, powerful, and dangerous. While in Kings Landing, she’d heard all sorts of tales of him from various individuals. She could never differentiate between which were real, and which merely fantasy. She’d seen the way men would shrink in his presence, and how women would take one look at his face and hurry in the opposite direction. She never understood that one. While there was no avoiding his scar and size, he was by no means ugly in her eyes. “ _Scars just add character_ ” she thought to herself. As a young girl, she never understood why Sansa and Jeyne would sneakily watch the boys training. “ _What good is just watching them fight, when you could be in there learning to fight?_ ” 

They were sitting together in front of the fire place and Arya was listening to Sandor tell the story of his scar, and about his relationship with his brother. It was the first time he’d truly opened up to her about past, and as much as she wanted to listen and learn, the rum was making quick work of her. Through heavy eyelids she watched him. The way he carried himself as he spoke, the way his mouth moved, the size of his hands, she was trying to drink up everything about him she could see… and finally understood why Sansa and Jeyne would steal glances in the training yard. 

Without hesitation, or even thinking, she tackled his large frame to the floor and pushed her lips against his. She’d never kissed anyone before, and was sure he could tell. Seconds felt like an eternity, as her tiny body pressed against his.

Sandor has been in the middle of a story when her force came at him. Her lips pressed against his, and for a moment he closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her. He breathed her in. “ _Cinnamon. She always smells like cinnamon and spices._ ” He gently opened his mouth and slid his tongue past her lips. She wove her fingers through the hair on the back of his head and gave a gentle tug, eliciting a groan from him.

“Seven hells, girl. What do you think you’re doing?”

“Showing you that we make a good team, and should head for the free cities together.”

“I think I’ve let you indulge in the drink a little too much.”

“Fuck you. If you think I’m only saying this because I’ve been drinking…”

“That’s exactly why I think you’re saying it. No young woman in their right mind would do what you just did.”

“Why? Because of your scar? Because you’re dangerous? Because you’ve got this fucking wall up around you? Or because you just want to dump me off and get your fucking coin?”

With that, Sandor stood up and walked to the door. 

“I’m going for some air.”

Arya didn’t see the use in chasing him, nor did she want to. She lay back on the floor while her mind spun in circles, unsure if it was caused by the rum or her flaring emotions. As she rolled onto her side, she noticed a flash of red from underneath one of the beds. She wormed her way across the floor, and reached for the item that almost appeared to have an ethereal glow. It was a red leather bound book, with gold letters embossed on the front that said, “The Labyrinth.”


End file.
